


What's In a Name?

by Anacrea



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Asexual Enjolras, Canon Era, Feelings About Romance, Implied Asexuality Because 19th Century, M/M, Sad, logic and philosophy week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anacrea/pseuds/Anacrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras has Hangups about the ideas and expectations that romance seems to involve. Combeferre finds that understanding Enjolras is not always the easiest thing in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's In a Name?

**Author's Note:**

> Sad thoughts here, but their relationship is mostly a happy one, don't worry. This is for Logic & Philosophy Week on tumblr; thanks, Oilan, for hosting, and thanks to Galvin for helping me with some wording! :)

They have yet to put a name to what they are, but Combeferre doesn't feel much of a need for one when they understand each other so easily. There are several words he can think of that apply to Enjolras: friend, partner, companion, soul mate, _lover_ , but they communicate by touch as often as by words, and there is no misunderstanding the way that Enjolras looks at him with incredible fondness, or the way they share (chaste, impossibly sweet) kisses while they're alone, over important discussion or over easy silence.

In fact, it is Courfeyrac who first brings up the topic of names in the first place. It's a quiet evening in; Enjolras invited the both of them to his lodgings to share supper together while finishing work on a pamphlet, but they've long ago completed that and have since moved on to the more lighthearted company of friends. Enjolras allows Combeferre much more in the way of public affection than he does the rest of their friends, but there are still great parts of their relationship that are private, of course from the public but also from the others. It's only now, in the company of no one but Courfeyrac, a friend that they both trust entirely, that Combeferre grows bold enough to place a small kiss to Enjolras's cheek in the midst of their discussion. Enjolras smiles softly, a reassurance that he has not overstepped, and as expected Courfeyrac seizes upon the moment.

The gesture itself is innocent, but knowing Enjolras to be reserved as he is, and with the expert understanding that Courfeyrac has of the relationships between people (in particular, of the feelings of his friends), there's no mistaking the intent of it. Still, it takes him a moment to respond in words.

"Ah, so this is a lovers' affair between the two of you, after all. I can't think of any couple more suited to one another," he says, and the genuine smile on his face warms Combeferre's heart.

He opens his mouth to respond, to thank him, to confirm, but Enjolras answers first, with a shake of his head and an easy smile. "Not at all, Courfeyrac; we're simply intimate friends," he says, resting a hand on Combeferre's shoulder, and his words are said convincingly enough that Combeferre finds himself nodding in agreement even before he's processed what was said.

Of course, he is a little less certain once he has processed it. Naturally he doesn't contradict Enjolras; if he doesn't want to or is uncomfortable telling Courfeyrac about the two of them, the last thing Combeferre wants to do is push him into doing it anyway. Still, it's curious at least to deny it after such a favorable reaction. There's no chance at all that Courfeyrac would think poorly of them for it, or even that he would be indiscreet. He feels momentarily guilty for being open in front of Courfeyrac at all, but from what Combeferre can see on Enjolras's face, he isn't fazed in the least bit. This would have to be a discussion for the both of them, later.

Courfeyrac, for his part, scans Combeferre's expression and seems to make an assessment, laughing off his earlier comment easily and bringing everyone into accord once more. "No two friends more suited to one another, then," he says brightly, and Combeferre smiles once again.

"Nor any three," he adds, and things are as easy as ever between them for the rest of the evening.

Courfeyrac leaves an hour or so after that, and Combeferre stays. He and Enjolras frequently share a bed together, and these days even sleep in each other's arms, though they've never touched in a way that could be considered unchaste. It's after they've both undressed to their nightshirts that the topic comes up again.

Combeferre presses a gentle kiss to Enjolras's lips as he lies down, and smiles at the happy hum that he gets in response. Enjolras wraps his arms around him, and they lay in bed for a few quiet moments before he brings the topic up. "Earlier... about Courfeyrac," he begins, and Enjolras responds before he has to elaborate.

"I hope that didn't trouble you? I am not surprised he understood it that way."

The phrasing strikes Combeferre as a bit odd, but he presses onward. "It was somewhat troubling to me," he admits. Of course it was; he'd expected Enjolras to acknowledge what there was between them. "But I understand. Did you not want to be open about our relationship with him? Should I not have...?" He reaches forward, touches Enjolras on the cheek where his earlier kiss had been, and relaxes when Enjolras moves to hold his hand in place. The smile on his face is a mirror of the reassurance he'd given him at the time.

"You've done nothing wrong, my Combeferre," he says, and the tender look in his eyes is deeply moving as ever. "It isn't surprising to me that Courfeyrac should misunderstand the nature of our relationship. I don't mind sharing our affection in front of him, either, at least not in the manner you did earlier. I'm only glad that I was able to correct him."

Combeferre is troubled again, now. Where was the misunderstanding? Enjolras denied the truth of their relationship, and while he could understand that, he hadn't been correcting anything in doing so. Courfeyrac was correct in his assessment, wasn't he? "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," he says slowly. Enjolras seems all too happy to elaborate.

"The perfect friendship that you and I share is a matter easily understood between the two of us - because it is between the two of us. Courfeyrac, for all his warmth and his way with people, would interpret... what we have with one another as a lovers' affair, as he did earlier. I'm not offended by the suggestion, but I don't want to perpetuate that conception of our relationship. You're right that it may simply be more practical, and certainly safer, to keep part of this to ourselves. He would not understand that when I kiss you..." Enjolras does so, molding their lips together with warmth and even passion, before pulling away. "It's not a kiss between lovers."

Combeferre himself finds it to be exactly that, and he stares, torn between bafflement and anguish. If not that, then what? The idea that Enjolras might not return his feelings has never occurred to him, not since they've started this arrangement, and it still seems beyond him. As he tries to search his eyes for some shred of deeper understanding, Combeferre finds that Enjolras has closed them in the middle of their kiss, and they remain closed now. "But I do love you," he says in protest, but his voice is subdued enough that it comes across as an affirmation more than an argument.

What is there to say to that? To argue, to suggest that of _course_ this is a lovers' affair - when Enjolras is clearly very content to believe otherwise - would shatter the peace they've found in one another. Affair or no, the way that Enjolras looks at him; how he curls into him now, and presses his head into his chest; the ease of their lips fitting together in comfort and affection; none of these are any less real. Still, he can't convince himself that it's a meaningless distinction.

"Of course," Enjolras is saying, and Combeferre can tell from the way his body is shifting (he knows his habits, now, knows that Enjolras sleeps curled on his side, with one knee resting atop Combeferre's leg) that he will be asleep before too long. "But while Courfeyrac understands the love of friendship as well as any of us, I'm not convinced there is anyone, without experiencing it for himself, that might fully understand the love of _our_ friendship."

He is smiling. He is happy. Combeferre does not have it in him to try to correct either of those things, but for all that his words are sweet, they bring none of the comfort that he's come to expect of them. There have always been times where they don't see eye to eye, but never before now has Combeferre found the language Enjolras is speaking to be incomprehensible.

"I am fortunate that you, at least, most intimate of intimate friends, understand me entirely," Enjolras says, an expression of perfect serenity on his face. Combeferre bows his head and thinks, to his dismay, that understanding Enjolras has never been so impossible.


End file.
